


New Policy

by PatPrecieux



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU for U.S. Healthcare norms applied to the U.K., First Time, Humor, John is a Saint, M/M, Medical Examination, Sherlock is a Brat, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 10:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11689659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/pseuds/PatPrecieux
Summary: New Scotland Yard institutes a policy change. John is fine with it, Sherlock- not so much.





	New Policy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notjustmom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/gifts).



> Sherlock abhors change, but to continue The Work, needs must. He soon learns change can be shocking AND good.
> 
>  
> 
> **Thanks to a lovely reader, sehrrhes, who let me know about the NHS, so suspend your belief a bit for this story. The Boys and Mrs. Hudson will thank you. :)

"This is patently absurd Giles, and I categorically refuse!" 

 

The slamming door to Lestrade's office groaned under the weight of the furious indignation of Sherlock Holmes, leaving John Watson and the bemused Inspector shaking their heads.

 

"So, mate, is categorically refusing worse than his typical no?"

 

"Damned if I know Greg. Sounds more ominous, but who the hell can say with that one."

 

"Still, John, it has to be done. Otherwise..."

 

"I know. Don't worry, I'll take care of things."

 

"Ta. Just ring me if you need backup. You know, panda cars, an armed unit, helicopters- the usual." 

 

John snorted, "Hopefully nothing that drastic, but I'll keep it in mind. Now to find the git and have the conversation."

 

"Better you than me, my friend. Good luck, you'll need it."

***~~~***

John had correctly assumed that he would be making his way back to Baker Street alone. He took the tube and then walked to have time to plot a workable strategy. His ridiculous flatmate always chose the most annoying times and paltry issues over which to strop, and this was no different. Climbing seventeen stairs, his only thought was, "Into the fray, Watson."

 

Any hope that the storm had passed was crushed at the sight of Sherlock curled up on the sofa in classic pout mode. Predictably, John had barely got in the door before the tirade began.

"Whatever your argument, place it in the corner of your little brain with the least cobwebs and save your breath."

 

"Sherlock, I know you're not happy about this, but you HAVE to do it if you want to continue consulting for the Yard. I didn't change the rules, we just need to comply."

 

"Comply?! To a dictatorial, brutish, unreasonable..."

 

"For Christ's sake Sherlock, it's only a simple request for proof of health for insurance purposes. One hour in a doctors office and a signature on a standard form. Not exactly brain surgery."

 

"What right does Scotland Yard have to make demands on me? I'm an invaluable resource. They should be bowing at my feet, not treating me like a..a.."

 

John smirked, "Regular person? Look, like it or not, it IS reasonable for the Yard to want insurance on those people who work for them. Particularly those like you who seem to include immortality under their job qualifications. I've already had my physical and as soon as we see to yours, we'll be good to go."

 

Sherlock sneered, but nodded. "Fine! Well Doctor Watson, get on with it." Throwing off his dressing gown and stripping off his t-shirt, Sherlock presented himself like a condemned man.

 

John rubbed his eyes and swore under his breath. This was not going to be well received. "Sherlock, you realize I can't be the physician of record here."

 

The raven curls bounced violently, and the face beneath them wore an expression of incredulity. "You are my doctor. Why would you say that?"

 

"Because, I might be considered prejudiced in your favor, being your friend and all. You need an unbiased medical opinion. I've gone ahead and made an appointment with someone, schoolmate of mine."

 

"What possible difference is there if you or Stamford does the stupid exam?"

 

"Not Mike, another friend remember?"

 

"Is he? I must have deleted it. Who then?"

 

"His name's Colin McFee. You'll like him."

 

"So he's nothing like you then?"

 

"Very funny you twat. It's all set for tomorrow at 10 in the morning. By this time tomorrow.."

 

"No! Absolutely positively NO!!"

 

"You what?" John felt a headache rising up from his toes.

 

"If I am to be forced into this untenable situation, I demand this indignity be concluded today."

 

"You demand? Today is it Your Highness, other people involved you know."

 

"No one of consequence John, now arrange it quickly. If I die from boredom or aggrevation there will be no need for an exam."

 

"I'm nearly ready to arrange the dying part you brat, BUT if I can end this nonsense today, I'll see what can be arranged."

***~~~***

Having lost the battle over Sherlock appearing in full war armor including THE coat, John now busied himself filling out the paperwork that Sherlock couldn't be arsed to care about, and wishing for calm.

 

Calling in years old favors and basically begging-twice, he had persuaded Colin to make Sherlock his last patient of the day. John could only think this was best for them, the entire staff and other patients of the blissfully ignorant Dr. McFee.

 

John could only huff as Sherlock refused any and all pleasantries extended by his bloggers colleague, and offered a lame defense. "Sorry Colin, he's a bit, ah..."

 

The tall ebony skinned man smiled, "Mad?"

 

"Exactly. Apologies in advance for everything and anything."

 

"No worries, John. I treat lots of two year olds. Shouldn't take long and I'll be sure to give him a sweet after."

 

Feeling more calm, John sat back and went through a mental checklist of a typical physical. Five minutes to undress and put on the gown. That part should be easy enough. What he didn't know was Sherlock had carried on with his fashion objection to THOSE gowns and had presented himself to Dr. McFee starkers, which failed to deter the inevitable.

 

John continued with his virtual exam, weight, height, simple blood draw and urine sample all things Sherlock would scoff at, but not outright reject. Then check the heart, lungs, blood pressure, eyes, ears, throat, reflexes, and skin for suspicious moles or growths. Good, nearly there, just one more thing. Then home for takeaway and hopefully a peaceful evening. Maybe things would be..

 

At that moment, what could only be described as the sound of a very little girl screaming shattered the silence of the nearly empty office. Before John could make sense of the uproar, he was almost knocked to the floor by Sherlock charging full speed out the door, Belstaff flying behind him.

 

Barely having time to gawk, John was stunned to see Colin, shame faced and panting, clutching Sherlock's clothes and shoes in both hands. "Mr. Holmes, your clothes, your... pants!"

 

Without a word to his distressed colleague, John ran out of the building and onto the street, a series of "shit, shit, shits" spitting from between his lips like bullets. Feverishly scanning the pavement for the pantless and shoeless detective, he was rewarded with the sight of his flatmate hailing a cab.

 

Of course Sherlock could ALWAYS find a cab in rain, sleet, snow and apparently moments of sheer panic. Trouble was, while he had thought to wrap his coat around himself, he had neglected to button it.

 

There he stood, in less than his usual sartorial splendor, raising his arm for the cabbie and revealing himself in all his natural glory to what John, in his distress, reckoned was half the population of London. The cabbie, obviously put off, veered away, so a confused Sherlock simply repeated the gesture. By now, a frantic John had rushed to his side, and with fumbling fingers fastened the buttons of the long coat.

 

"Bloody hell Sherlock, what are you playing at? We're on a public street. A public street!" It was then that he noticed Sherlock seemed to be in a daze.

 

"John, it's intolerable that a cab won't stop for us. Totally unacceptable in my opinion, how dare they?!"

 

"Might be they object to you waving your bits about instead of just, I don't know WAVING."

 

At that precise moment, the all too familiar black windowed limousine rolled to an abrupt stop. "Well so much for nothing to see here, gentlemen. For once I find myself without comment. Please do get in the car."

 

John had never thought he would be so glad to see Mycroft Holmes, but now he was as welcome as a guardian angel. "Jesus, Mycroft, thank you. I didn't quite know.."

 

"John, my feet are cold, why are my feet cold?"

 

Mycroft turned a frankly worried face towards his brother. "What has transpired this afternoon, John?"

 

The doctor blinked, "John" indicated the older Holmes' concern. "I'm not sure I know exactly, Mycroft. One minute he's finishing up a medical exam, next thing he's dashing out in nothing but his coat. Thank God it's chilly today or we might have had the Full Monty on our hands." He sighed, "Sorry I know the reference probably doesn't resonate."

 

Mycroft almost smiled, almost. "Contrary to popular belief, doctor, I was not raised in a monastery by monks. I am familiar with modern phraseology. We seem to be at your flat. Please don't trouble yourself over the incident. All CCTV footage has been deleted and all witnesses have been made aware that The Crown would look quite unfavorably upon the spread of any malicious gossip."

 

"Holy hell Mycroft, is there any person you can't threaten or situation you can't manipulate?"

 

"None of which I am aware John. I would encourage you, however, to determine the source of my brother's ennui."

 

"Ennui? More like a panicked meltdown, but yeah, I'll sort him out Mycroft. I don't like to see him upset like this, I actually care about him you know."

 

"I know, doctor, how much you care, perhaps even more than you know yourself. And before you ask my meaning, I have great faith you and my brother are well on the way to figuring things out on your own. Now, I think it best you take our Sherlock inside before Baker Street becomes the next performance venue for his striptease act."

 

"Yeah, right. Ah, thanks again and I'll tell you what I find."

 

A look of what might have been kindness passed over Mycroft's face. "Only if you think it best, John. Even I am willing to admit that not everything should be my business."

 

"Well that's a.. no, no that's very thoughtful of you, Mycroft."

 

"Possibly, if so, I would ask you not to repeat that to others."

 

With a nod and small laugh, John took a still dazed Sherlock into the safety and solitude of 221B.

 

***~~~***

It was a near thing, but Hudders was not to be avoided. "Well then boys, how was the check-up? Everything tickaty-boo?"

 

The mere fact that Sherlock had no snarky rejoinder to that silly remark spoke volumes.

 

Her eyes roamed over the scene, and she whispered, "John dear, you know he has no shoes, and is he wearing ANYTHING under that coat?"

 

"It's a long story Hudders, but no he's not. Won't happen again."

 

She grinned like a Cheshire Cat, "Don't be so sure John. The way you two are together, I half expected to find you doing the deed on the landing long before now. Best get upstairs with you. Since he's given you the incentive, might as well strike while the iron is hot as my dear Mum used to say. Half the work's already done for you dear, go finish the job."

 

Flustered, John stumbled over his words. "Mrs. Hudson! We're not, we aren't, we haven't.."

 

"Well aware dear, so take my advice. Keep calm and carry on. I'll just have myself an herbal soother with a whiskey chaser and turn the volume on the Telly up full blast. Mind, if I hear you're not getting on with things, I'll be banging on the ceiling with my broom. Get a move on!!"

***~~~****

Upstairs, after tea, a hot shower and clothes, Sherlock seemed to be lucid again. In the meanwhile, John had received a concerned text from Colin with a recap of what had ensued. The blogger was feeling both sympathetic and more than a bit protective.

 

Sitting down next to Sherlock on the sofa, he rubbed circles on the sinewy back. "Want to tell me about it?"

 

"I screamed like a girl, and please don't pretend your friend hasn't told you the reason."

 

"Wouldn't insult you like that, Sherlock, but I want to hear it from you. That is, if you'll let me." His hand moved up to comb through disheveled locks.

 

"I wasn't expecting it. Stupid I know, it was a medical exam after all, but I was caught unawares. It brought back a rather traumatic memory I had thought erased from my mind palace, but apparently not."

 

John suddenly felt bile and fury rise in his throat. "Sherlock, no look at me, did someone touch you, hurt you?"

 

Sherlock flinched, "Thankfully, no, but I was always the freak and the threats of THAT were constant and terrifying for me. I lived in abject misery, but did manage to preserve my "virginity", my brother would be so smug to hear it."

 

"Your brother was very kind today Sherlock. I promised not to tell, so keep my secret yeah?"

 

Sherlock finally felt a small smile tug at his lips. "Not that I believe it, but since you ask it of me, I will. I'm so embarrassed John, I'm nearly thirty and I fell to pieces over a bloody.. damn!!"

 

"Sherlock, as you said, it was unexpected. Colin feels badly that he didn't give you fair warning. He's sending your clothes over tomorrow."

 

"No apology is warranted John. He would have no reason to suspect a man my age had no experience with that. Worse still, the exam is incomplete, and I'll be banned from cases."

 

John threw caution to the wind and pulled Sherlock into a cuddle. "I have it on Colin's authority that you passed with flying colors, save needing to fatten up as I'm constantly harping. So, in light of that, he will be discrete if I finish the last test for him. No one need know besides us. Sound good, love?"

 

"Love? Is that a new aspect to your bedside manner doctor?"

 

"Could be, not everyday I get to do a prostate exam on the world's only consulting detective, and the most adorable, gorgeous man I've ever met. Oh, and not to mention, brilliant, amazing and sexier than Hell."

 

Later, Sherlock allowed that "bend over and cough" took on an entirely different meaning when spoken by Captain John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. Also came the knowledge that said procedure, when enthusiastically performed, did invoke screams, but decidedly NOT of the girly variety.

 

Wrapped in each others arms, legs tangled in wrecked linens, Sherlock giggled, "I think I could become quite fond of the benefits of Scotland Yard's new policy."

 

John grabbed two handfuls of his lovers arse and snogged him into silence. "Just so you know, brat, I'll be the only doctor enforcing that policy on you from now on."

***~~~***

The next morning, a gentle tapping on the flat's door led John to discover a tray piled high with tea, scones and a full fry up for breakfast. Alongside the tray was propped Hudders trusty broom with a note that read, "Glad I had no need to use this last night. Telling all you are both unavailable for the day. My abused walls and I are both happy that SEX is your New Policy. Love, Martha."

**Author's Note:**

> After two weeks of a health scare ending on a brighter note, I needed some silliness for medicinal purposes.
> 
> With affection and admiration to notjustmom whose talent never fails to inspire and entertain.


End file.
